


I'm Fine

by grantaire_the_cynic



Series: AU Prompts [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantaire_the_cynic/pseuds/grantaire_the_cynic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bases on an anonymous prompt:  E/R are walking home and get mugged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Fine

“That was a pretty good film.” Enjolras said as they exited the theater, “I wasn’t sure about stretching that book into three movies, but I think it might work.”

“I don’t know, the beginning was a bit slow,” Grantaire said, slipping his hand into Enjolras’ as they walked home. 

“Maybe a little, but to turn a three hundred page book into three movies there’s going to be down time. I’m glad they have decided to add other material, though, or it would be long.”

“One day I’ll read the books.” Grantaire said, almost like an afterthought.

Enjolras laughed, “You’ve been saying that for four years, yet you’ve never even looked at the books on the shelf!”

“Hey, I’ve thought about it! That counts for something.”

Enjolras kissed his cheek, “I suppose so.”

They walked, hand in hand, down the street back to their apartment. The night was warm and clear- one of the nicest nights they had seen in a long time. They walked slowly, enjoying the evening air, enjoying each other's company.  
They were nearing their street when five men surrounded them. They pulled a variety of weapons on them. Enjolras and Grantaire raised their hands slightly.

“What do you want?” Enjolras asked cautiously. 

“Wallets, phones, the lot- now. Toss them on the ground here. Now.”

Enjolras emptied his pockets, silently thankful that he never carried much cash, and that he kept his cards separate. Grantaire glared at the group as he slowly deposited his phone and his wallet on the ground. Enjolras nudged him and shook his head, recognizing the look Grantaire wore before he got into a fight. 

“Check them.” the first man said, motioning to two other men. They began going through their pockets, patting them down, and looking for anything that the two of them were hiding. Once again, Enjolras was silently thankful that he had stashed his credit card, driver's license, and a couple other cards in his shoes, a habit learned from his mother. Grantaire cursed as they pulled his iPod out of his back pocket, along with his cash. Grantaire shrugged the man off.

“Don’t move!” the first man warned, pointing a gun at Grantaire. Grantaire shrugged off the man’s hand again. “I’ve got nothing left on me, now stop touching me!” He growled. 

“I said stop moving!” the man yelled, gesturing at Grantaire. His move was so violent and sudden that the gun went off. Grantaire crumpled to the ground. Enjolras, ignoring the scattering men, was instantly at his side, pulling him onto his back and pressing his wound. Lights and sirens were on the scene in a matter of seconds. A policeman approached them. He had been patrolling nearby when he heard the shots. He radioed for an ambulance and gently moved Enjolras from Grantaire.  
Enjolras held Grantaire’s hand tightly while the policeman worked.

“Stay with me, Grantaire. Come on. You’ll be ok.” he said, over and over.  
Grantaire was gasping, his breath short and ragged. He was unable to speak, he just held Enjolras’ hand weakly. Periodically he would jerk or spasm, his breath catching. Each time Enjolras would squeeze his hand tighter and whisper reassuringly into his ear.

 

“We don’t have room, I’m sorry. You can meet us there.” one of the EMTs said. Enjolras was bordering on hysterics as he pleaded, “I’ll sit anywhere, please! I don’t have a car nearby, please I have to go with him!” They finally relented, squeezing him into the front seat.

 

Enjolras paced the waiting room, unable to sit still and barely keeping his emotions in check. Suddenly, the Amis burst into the room. 

“Courfeyrac called, I had to come!”

“I can’t believe that happened, I’m so sorry!”

“He’ll be fine, he’s a fighter.”

“I came as soon as I hung up on Combeferre.”

“We’re here for you both!”

All this was said at once, almost overwhelming Enjolras as he tried to sort out the sudden sound of his friends entering the room. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” he kept repeating, hoping that would make it true. “‘Taire’s in surgery right now.” Enjolras said in a hollow voice, “He looked bad.”  
Enjolras suddenly felt the weight of the situation crashing down upon him. He sank into a chair. The other Amis sat around him. 

“Enjolras, don’t worry, he’ll be fine. Let’s face it, he’s a wee bit obsessed with you. Do you really think he’s going to leave you?” Courfeyrac said softly. Enjolras nodded, leaning back against the chair.

“He just looked so... I don’t know, pale, weak, he couldn’t talk, Courf, he could barely even stay conscious. He....he wasn’t conscious when we got here. He...he stopped breathing in the ambulance. Courf, what if...what if he doesn’t make it?” Enjolras fought back the tears threatening to pour down his face.  
Combeferre knelt down in front of Enjolras, looking him in the eyes, “Enjolras, listen to me. He’ll be fine. He will. He’s not going to quit on you, not after the work he did to get with you.” 

Enjolras began pacing again, unable to sit still. It had already been over an hour. How much longer could it take? The minutes dragged on, and Enjolras kept pacing. 

 

“Does it normally take this long?” Courfeyrac asked Combeferre quietly. 

“It depends on the damage. It depends on what they have to fix. At this point no news is good news I suspect.” Combeferre watched Enjolras nervously.  
Courfeyrac sighed, “I can’t believe that happened. What if.... what if...” he couldn’t finish his sentence.  
“Don’t, it’s not going to. He’s hung on this long, R will be fine.”

It was three hours before the doctor finally came out. Combeferre, Courfeyrac and the rest of the Amis watched as the doctor approached Enjolras- all of them holding their breath.

Combeferre bolted up out of his seat- Enjolras had collapsed against the wall, grief stricken sobs wracked his whole body. None of them had ever seen this kind of emotion from him before. Combeferre eyed the doctor, who just shook his head. Enjolras had come apart. He had his face buried in his arms and knees, violent sobs still shaking his whole body and echoing through the waiting room. The Amis looked on, too stunned to know how to react. Other people in the waiting room regarded him sadly.  
Combeferre wiped his eyes and approached Enjolras. He sat down beside him and pulled him into his arms. Enjolras buried his face into Cobeferre’s shoulder.

“h....h...he’s g...g..gone,” he sobbed, “th....they tried. He....he....” Enjolras could not finish his sentence. Comeferre just held him and rubbed his back- words were useless right now. He just held his grieving friend and tried to hold back his own tears. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was a rainy morning a month after Grantaire’s funeral. Combeferre was out walking when he saw Enjolras shuffling slowly down the street. He looked terrible- his hair was sticking out at weird angles from under what looked like one of Grantaire's hats. He had large, dark circles under his eyes- which were red and puffy, and his face was blotchy- red. Combeferre could not tell if it was rain, tears, or both that streamed down Enjolras’ face. He was carrying a small potted flower. Combeferre walked up to him.

 

“How are you doing? We don’t see you much anymore. I wish you’d let us come over- are you eating?” he internally cringed when he saw how drawn Enjolras looked.

“I’m alive.” he said in a small voice- almost as if he had to convince himself. Combeferre just nodded and walked with him. The cemetery was damp and dreary. Combeferre followed Enjolras silently as they walked up to Grantaire’s grave. He sat the flower down and leaned on the stone for support. Combeferre stood back for a few moments- giving Enjolras time.

“I’m so sorry- I... ‘Taire... I... I can’t do this. I... can't...” he sank to his knees, resting his forehead against the stone. “‘Taire you weren’t supposed to leave me! How...You were my rock. You...” he sighed and cried silently. Combeferre watched, his heart aching. Enjolras was never this unglued. He walked forward and rested a hand on his shoulder. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Enjolras pulled his shirt on and looked at his reflection. He still looked like hell, the dark circles under his eyes refused to disappear- probably because he was still not sleeping. He combed his hair and took a deep breath. It was time to get back to work. He walked to the cafe and took his place at the table. The other Amis greeted him enthusiastically.

“It’s good to have you back.” Courfeyrac said. Enjolras managed a weak smile. He tried to ignore the empty chair across the table from him, but his eyes kept darting that way. Courfeyrac set a bottle of wine there. “It looks more right,” he said. Enjolras just nodded.  
He got through the meeting. Somehow, though he was unsure exactly how, he made it through the meeting. Outside he let out the breath he had been holding.

“If it’s too soon we can cover for you,” Combeferre said. Enjolras shook his head. 

“No, I...I need to be here, I need to be with all of you, it’s just....” he sighed, “Seeing his chair, not hearing his wisecracks, I....”

“I know, Enjolras, I know.” Combeferre said, pulling him into a hug, “It’s been a long road, but, you’re making it.” Combeferre walked through the snow with Enjolras, listening to him as he voiced his fears, coming to light for the first time. Combeferre listened as Enjolras described his dreams, how he could not sleep, how he could not laugh, how he felt trapped, alone, in a dark pit. 

“Enjolras, you need to sleep. I know you’re not getting any. Go home. Go to sleep. Call me in the morning. We’ll talk about all of this when you don't look like you're about to pass out.” Combeferre said. Enjolras sighed. 

“I can’t, Combeferre, every time I sleep I lose him again. I can’t relive it every night.”

“Enjolras- you can’t live on 2-3 hours of sleep a day. You won’t have nightmares forever. Talk to Joly- get a sleeping pill.”

“No, I’ll....I’ll be fine.”

Combeferre walked away. Yes, one day Enjolras would be fine. Not fine, but ok. He did not know when, but he knew that somehow, with the help of the Amis, Enjolras would find a way to muddle through.


End file.
